A Night of Dance
by Wordless Joy
Summary: A typical night of dance with our favorite nations. What could go wrong? Rated T just for safety's sake.


It had started out pretty simply. After all, dance is the universal language. So what better way to foster international communications and good will than having all the nations gather together, and exchange dance moves? It would be just fine.

It had started innocently enough. They had trickled in slowly, laughing, conversing with each other. Everyone was dressed semiformal, nice pants and dress shirts, but no ties and no jackets. The girls wore their pretty dresses, which France greatly appreciated.

Some light instrumental music played, unremarkable jazz. Some were excited, some were nervous. It had been agreed that each nation would select a dance to teach the others. They would try to keep going until either everyone was exhausted, or no one wanted to demonstrate a dance.

America, being America, volunteered to go first. He had decided on a simple line dance, the Virginia reel. It was easy to learn, and a good icebreaker. After all, who would hate something so awesome and fun and western? Well, obviously England, but he didn't really count.

The evening had gone on from there, with little interests and tidbits between dances. France and Russia had argued about ballet, a very long and old argument between them. France protested that Russia was distorting the delicate beauty that he had created, really, making everything so masculine. And Russia had smiled, and tapped his pipe against his shoulder, fiddled with his scarf.

Russia had actually demonstrated a traditional dance, although most of the other nations had trouble performing it. Some quietly wondered exactly how Russia stayed so balanced when he was just about always seen with his vodka.

There were little debates about dances, like where they originated, who came up with what, ect. Romano was quite proud of his whirling dance, the tarantella. He especially liked how its origin came from a spider bite. Perhaps he should catch one of those spiders and use it on the idiot his brother was always hanging on to. Austria quietly lamented to Hungary how the dances had changed over the centuries. Poland and Lithuania reminisced about the dances they created together.

Austria declined showing a dance, instead choosing to quietly play the piano as various nations looked at each other a bit hopelessly and wondered how to dance to that.

It should be noted that at this point, all the dances had been things that required no true partner, including the tarantella. Either partners would be constantly switched during the dance, or there simply were no partners. This was because all the nations knew, or had been advised, that having set partners was a bad idea. Because someone might get left out, of course. That was really the only reason, yes indeed. Not because of centuries of built up tensions and attractions, no.

And then Spain walked up to the front, smiling his big smile. His dance, he announced cheerfully, was the tango. He clarified that the style would be the Rio de Plata style, specifically the Argentine tango.

Little ripples spread through the crowd. Yes, Spain was the country of passion. The tango was a passionate dance. So passionate, in fact, that it was probably best to dance it with someone you were very familiar with. So find your friend. Possibly your friend with benefits. After all, the Argentine tango relied heavily on improvisation, and you wanted to be with someone familiar who would realize what you were doing. Particularly when you executed one of those interestingly complex moves that could place you in an interesting position.

Spain, still smiling, had asked Romano to come up to the front and demonstrate it with him. Romano had replied with a phrase that rather confused his brother and made France smile. Unperturbed, Spain had walked over, and they began an intense conversation that apparently involved tomatoes and pasta. Eventually, Romano blushed furiously, scowled, and cautiously took Spain's oustretched hand.

And Spain had snapped him up, pulling him tight against his chest, their heads so close that it almost looked like they would kiss. Spain announced that this was the proper way to dance the Argentine tango. As the music started, he pulled Romano into long, gliding steps, setting up the beat and the first simple pieces of footwork. Romano, nearly being dragged along, christened Spain with none too quiet endearments that would have had any mother running for the soap. Spain, still smiling, simply decided that this was an excellent time to demonstrate a _volcada_.

Meanwhile, the other nations were having their own bits of fun. Finland and Sweden were dancing along, although there had been a momentary scuffle as they fought for the lead. Finland, being swept along by Sweden, gloomily wondered why he wasn't leading when he was the one more familiar with the tango, even if this wasn't the variation that he was best at.

France, the eternal opportunist, was persistently chasing a partner, any partner. L'amour was blind, oui? Interestingly enough, everyone he asked would either already have a partner (even if their partner was just away, they would be back any second, honest!), or perhaps they had realized they had a sudden urge to use the restroom, or perhaps they were overcome with a sudden fainting spell.

In the corner, a slight scuffle was going between four nations. Russia and Poland were both tugging on Lithuania, insisting that he danced with them. Belarus, meanwhile, was tugging on Russia's scarf, demanding that he dance with her, and perhaps after the dance they could get married married married. Lithuania weakly suggested that he instead dance with Belarus, and was immediately shot down by all three parties.

England, blushing furiously, had approached America. He suggested that perhaps, they could dance together? Not because England wanted to, you understand. He was just trying to make sure everyone (minus an annoying frog) had a partner. And America had stared for a second, and then he grinned, and grabbed England. No one was quite sure what they were dancing, because while perhaps it was a tango of some variety, it consisted of two people who were trying to lead, and arguing about the steps as they went.

Italy and Germany were at a rather awkward point, as Italy eagerly snuggled against Germany's chest. Germany, however, stood stiff and still, completely unsure. Germany simply did not dance like this, so they ended up just standing there, Italy swaying to the beat, attempting to tug an exceedingly red Germany along.

Hungary and Austria swung along gently, content with simple steps, although Austria was a little unsure about the propriety of this particular dance. Hungary, meanwhile, thoroughly enjoyed herself, although secretly she wished that perhaps France had gotten to Austria before she had.

Elsewhere on the dance floor, China had been immediately attacked by Korea, who declared of course aniki would love to dance with him and did you know that Korea actually invented the tango? China, meanwhile, was attempting avoid Korea's grasp and attempts at a _caricias_. Japan, on the other hand, was attempting to keep his distance from everyone else. His sense of Japanese propriety instructed him that this dance was simply too close. Greece wandered over to him at some point, and laconically asked for a dance. Japan, while attempting to find a polite way to say no, somehow found himself dancing instead.

Surprisingly, perhaps things would have settled down alright, with only minor arguments and injuries as a few couples grew bolder and tried more complex steps. Unfortunately, France made a mistake, and asked Lichtenstein to the floor, and possibly beyond. Switzerland, being her doting older brother, did not approve, and took entirely reasonable steps to ensure that this did not happen. When the dust finally settled, everyone was on the floor, covering his or her head, rhetorically wondering why Switzerland had brought his gun to a dance.

Romano was the first one to stand. Giving Spain a firm kick, he announced that he was going home. He went over to Italy, and attempted to tug him away. This was hindered as Italy clung to Germany, and Spain, already recovered, clung to Romano. England and America had started arguing again. Russia had succeeded in grabbing Lithuania, and was now attempting to fend off Poland while stopping Belarus from stabbing anyone with her knife.

And somehow, someone, somewhere, swung a kick (a kick that most _certainly_ wasn't on purpose) that connected quite solidly with America. Who immediately accused England, and took a swing. Which missed England, but hit France. Who decided to take the hit as an invitation, coincidently hitting Turkey as he dove forward. And suddenly the dance floor was a brawl.

Eventually, once everyone's bruises had faded, it was agreed while it had been fun, that never again would they try to have a dance together.

Well, there you are. I myself have taken a few years of dance, although I regret to say I have never learned ballroom, so I apologize if anything's strange.

Yes, the argument between Russian and French ballet is very old. And it is fairly true. Anyone attempting to go between the two will have trouble. Feet positions, arm positions, even how they hold their hands can be wildly different. French ballet comes from fencer's footwork, and focuses largely on grace. Russian ballet comes from French ballet, but it is more focused on strong movements, and is more likely to include male dancers. My memory is slightly hazy on the details, so feel free to correct.

The tarantella is a dance from southern Italy, which does indeed originate from a spider. There are numerous arguments if the dance was caused by the spider's venom, or if the whirling and twirling was actually recommended by doctors of the time to cure the venom. It is possible to dance the tarantella alone, but it's apparently unlucky. Dancing it with a partner though, is so like Romano that it makes me laugh. Both the woman and the man attempt to attract each other, but they continuously fly in and out of each other's arms in a display of inconsistency, coquetry, and love.

As stated before, the tango can be a very intimate dance. In the Argentine tango, you and your partner hold each other in what amounts to an embrace as you hold your chests together, as opposed to other styles where the pelvis downward is held together and the torsos are held seperate. The Argentine tango is very much led by the man, although either partner can choose to add in steps.

A _volcada_ is an extreme lean, usually followed up by a 'teasing' step, which tends to have one dancer flick their leg around their partner's leg or body.

There is a variation of the tango called Finnish Tango, which is apparently danced to very gloomy music, and uses long, low, striding steps with very close full upper body contact. Also, Finland hosts an annual tango festival called the Tangomarkkinaty in a town that contains the Tango Museum.

A _caricias_ (a 'caress') is when one dancer, typically the girl, runs her foot, thigh, or calf down her partner's body.


End file.
